"What a shame!" Voldemort shook his head gently. "Wizet, you could have become better and gone much farther down the path of magic with me."
"But instead, you chose the wrong path..." He looked at Dumbledore beside him. "Willingly binding yourself to a pedantic environment and becoming decaying mold."
Hearing this, Cornelius Fudge could not help looking at Wizet, while also reflecting on whether he had misjudged Wizet's abilities.
Although he had not, like Barty Crouch Sr., stood on the front lines of resistance when Voldemort ravaged England's magical world, he knew very well how powerful Voldemort was. For Voldemort to evaluate Wizet this way and regard him as a fellow traveler was already the highest praise.
Thinking of this, in addition to the fear of Voldemort that still filled his heart, he felt a strong sense of regret.
He should never have done that back then—sent Wizet to Xenophilius Lovegood.
If he had kept Wizet by his side and looked after him, the various predicaments he faced now might never have happened at all.
Perhaps, with Wizet's help, he could even have left behind a fine reputation in A History of Magic, becoming a Minister for Magic worthy of praise.
"Is that so? Decaying mold?" Wizet met Voldemort's gaze and asked, "But as far as I know, you seem rather fond of this place too..."
"For example, three years ago, you secretly infiltrated Hogwarts. What did you say to Headmaster Dumbledore then? You complained about Headmaster Dumbledore..."
"You complained that he had never helped you, that he made you return the things you stole. What were those things again? They seemed to be toys..."
"Enough!" Voldemort's expression twisted grotesquely as he cut Wizet off with a low shout.
The expressions of everyone around them became strange.
Stealing toys?
They